In an old war song, called The King of Englands Son, it says:
Farewell, he said, and sailed away. And many recollect that day. The ropes were of silk, the anchor of gold,And everywhere riches and wealth untold.
These words would aptly describe the vessel from Spain, for here was the same luxury, and the same parting thought naturally arose:
God grant that we once more may meet In sweet unclouded peace and joy.
There was a favourable wind blowing as they left the Spanish coast, and it would be but a short journey, for they hoped to reach their destination in a few weeks; but when they came out upon the wide ocean the wind dropped, the sea became smooth and shining, and the stars shone brightly. Many festive evenings were spent on board. At last the travellers began to wish for wind, for a favourable breeze; but their wish was uselessnot a breath of air stirred, or if it did arise it was contrary. Weeks passed by in this way, two whole months, and then at length a fair wind blew from the south-west. The ship sailed on the high seas between Scotland and Jutland; then the wind increased, just as it did in the old song of The King of Englands Son.
Mid storm and wind, and pelting hail,Their efforts were of no avail. The golden anchor forth they threw;Towards Denmark the west wind blew.
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